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Sister San Rafael

Wed, 16 May 2012 18:57:19 -0800

By Mary

When I was a kid my favorite place to go was to my grandma’s house in Castle Dale, UT. Grandma would pack a picnic in an antique basket her family used when she was a girl and we would head out for the San Rafael Swell where she would fascinate us with tales about riding her Indian pony around the desert when she was young. A lady from Hawaii once told Grandma she couldn’t stand the thought of “living in such a barren place.” Grandma retorted that it was much better than Hawaii because she didn’t “have any of those darn trees blocking the scenery.”

The San Rafael brought out the quirky pioneer spirit of my family.  We felt particularly free to be ourselves surrounded by sandstone cliffs, cactus, and sagebrush. One trip my dad did the unthinkable, he forgot his hat.  My very bald father is of Scandinavian descent and once upon a time (before I was born) he had a full head of red hair. He still had the fair complexion associated with his lost hair, and never went anywhere without a hat.  Grandma had a solution. She told my dad with a glint in her eye, “I have an extra bonnet." Grandma had quite a reputation in Emery County for making pioneer bonnets. I was very proud to know that Grandma was a girl people still wore them.

I loved all things pioneer. Laura from “Little House on the Prairie” was my hero. And Grandma, well, she was practically Laura. She had traveled in a covered wagon, worn pioneer bonnets, read by kerosene lantern and done everything else a proper pioneer girl would do. Her bonnets were awesome. The idea of my dad wearing one was not. Dad smiled mischieviously and placed the pink bonnet with a ruffle on his head and tied a bow under his chin. None of us kids wanted to admit we knew him. We tried to maintain a good distance from him. It was probably the most peaceful day Dad ever spent with us in the desert. (In hindsight I am kind of surprised that from then on he didn’t start wearing one perpetually). Later that evening Grandma surprised us all by spreading her sleeping bag out on the picnic table instead of in the tent. I thought it was hilarious imagining her spread out there all night like some kind of feast! She let me know that if she slept on the ground there would be no getting her up, and since it wasn’t in her plan to remain forever on the ground in the desert the picnic table would do nicely.

When I began dating Peter he was a frequent guest on these family outings. One winter trip my family was given two cases of bananas on the way out of town. It was cold that night and all the bananas froze. Unable to contemplate the waste of such a resource my mom forced each of us to eat all of the bananas before we were allowed to eat any other food on the trip. Peter, who was accustomed to eating no more bananas than absolutely necessary somehow managed choke down his share. It was a testament to his love of both me and the San Rafael that he never turned down a trip with us, even after being force fed bananas.

The San Rafael Swell is rich with reminders of those who lived there long ago. My family loved to visit an Allosaurus footprint. It was a magical to think that we could still see precisely where this creature had stepped. There were Native American pictographs and petroglyphs which filled me a desire to connect to a people who had lived long ago. As I looked at the art I would wonder what the people were like who made these pictures. What made them laugh, cry, what did their pictures mean to them?

From an early age I realized that not everyone regarded this land the way my family did. Some pictographs had been covered by graffiti and there were places where the hills and vegetation including the delicate, slow forming, erosion resistant soil crust had been torn up by newly popular ATV’s. It wasn’t the work of someone using a trail to get to a distant location, it was the repeated up and down of people looking for a thrill. From my earliest memory by brothers and I were incensed by this. We could understand the excitement of the ride, but thought that we had seen plenty of ugly hills where such recreation could be done without destroying something so breathtaking and fragile, a place that seemed sacred.

In the 1990’s more attention was paid to preserving the land. Even though it meant we could no longer drive up the wash to our favorite campsite, we were pleased that the graffiti was removed from the pictographs and relieved that the hills were protected from four wheelers.

In the years that have followed Peter and I have taken our own children to the San Rafael and watched their faces light up at their first sighting of the dinosaur print, or the excitement of finding a piece of petrified wood. I have heard my own children wonder aloud about the people who left their art on the walls so long ago. In those moments I feel a connection to my beloved grandma, who passed away many years ago. In this place I feel a connection to the generations of my family, and beyond that to the desert dwellers who left their art. I feel my connection to the creatures who roamed the San Rafael millions of years ago when it was a jungle. In this place I feel my connection to the earth and an overpowering sense of sacredness.

This is the basis of my environmentalism. I never want to have to say of my beautiful San Rafael, “She is gone, and we shall not see her like again.”  I have no expectation that we humans will not leave a mark on her, we are after all, a part of the world, but I do hope we will not, in arrogance, trade her beauty for a short sighted season of convenience or a momentary joyride in the history of humanity.  All of this is what Peter and I heard in Utah Slim's “Sister San Rafael.” Thanks Slim for giving us such a beautiful way to express our love for that place.

That “Low Lonesome Sound”

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 20:28:41 -0800

We’ve been working on arranging songs for our second album, and have been repeatedly drawn to the key of A (pretty low in my voice), viola, long neck banjo, and astonishingly low tunings on the guitar. It occurred to me that perhaps we were birthing a new sound… a “low lonesome sound.” I’ve made my share of lonesome sounds in my life. Many of them have been in the “High Lonesome” bluegrass style, singing and playing songs that sprang out of the soil long ago, but this seemed like something new.

At the Celtic Festival in Evanston last month I was reminded of the lonesome sound that happened the first time I played the Scottish Bagpipes. Several years back my in-laws came home from a trip abroad with a set, and presented them with great expectation to Mary and her five brothers. We were instructed that they were for sharing but that whoever showed the most promise could have a go at learning them first. There was no shortage of enthusiasm, and three of Mary’s brother’s rushed off to the other room to assemble the pipes. Moments later they came marching into the room accompanied by a sound I can only describe as a flock of geese dying of pneumonia while attempting to escape from a butcher.

With my musical training I felt certain I could do a little better. So after an excruciating half hour during which everyone tried to offer advice (which of necessity was done very loudly as at least one or two of the brothers at a time were always having a go at the pipes), I finally suggested maybe I should have a try. After all, I’m not bad with a penny whistle and how different could it be? Besides, with my hearing loss I had always imagined I would take up the pipes when I could no longer hear well enough to sing.

So I set to it. It seemed clear to me that one of the problem they were having was that they weren’t getting the chanter going and that perhaps the drone pipes were a bit out of tune. After 15 minutes or so of adjustments I felt I was ready to give it a go. I filled the bladder with air, squeezed, and…

Well, let’s just say it was a lonesome sound. Not one that anyone stayed around to listen to, although everyone was laughing hard enough it was difficult for them to leave. Later in the day an acquaintance who played pipes came by the house and we had him look at what we felt was clearly a defective instrument that my in-laws had been bilked into buying by some unscrupulous Scotsman. He picked the pipes up, made a couple of adjustments and burst into a glorious refrain of “Scotland the Brave”. All of us clamored for an explanation of why it hadn’t worked for us. He just winked and said “Maybe you just aren’t Scotch enough”. He left us with his card in case we wanted some lessons.

Several bottles of Scotch later we still hadn’t solved the mystery. The Pipes didn’t sound too bad after he had adjusted them, but none of us had the strength to blow, squeeze and play at the same time. Finally we decided he was right, none of us had enough Scottish blood. However, we reasoned that as all of us had some Scottish ancestry, maybe if we all tried at once we’d be equal to the task. Jobs were assigned and I managed to get the job of fingering the chanter as I was the only one with experience playing a tube with holes. One of us was in charge of blowing, another in charge of squeezing, and the last person just stood by shouting out helpful advice and encouragement. Finally we were able to launch into a halting but reasonably passable rendition of “Scotland the Brave”. Marching proved complicated however, with three of us attached to the pipes at various heights and with varying levels of force. We were finally forced to stop when the breathing tube was jammed up a nostril and we all tripped over each other landing in a heap. That was a “low lonesome sound” indeed.

Other low lonesome sounds in my repertoire include the rumblings of gastrointestinal distress (sure to clear a room in a jiffy) and the sound of me attempting Tuvan throat singing (also a crowd repellent). One lonesome sound I’ve left behind is snoring (this is such a lonesome sound that had me banned to the living room at times). Apparently losing a little weight was enough to clear that one up and I’ve been less lonely since.

There’s no need to fear, the only lonesome sounds you’ll hear at our upcoming concerts are the folk and blues inspired low lonesome songs of people far from their homes and safety. We’ll steer clear of the rest. Hope to see you in the audience. Be sure to say hello! We may play a lonesome song now and then but we love the company of music lovers!

-Peter is a very poor piper, and pecks of pepper make him sneeze, but has done himself proud in the pickin' and singing world. Come see Otter Creek do their thing April 21 at the 9th and 9th concert series in Salt Lake. Full details available on the calendar tab.

Well Whaddaya Know? I’m Famous!!!

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 11:28:51 -0800

by Mary Danzig

I’m famous. This may be as shocking for you to learn as it was for me. But recently I was assured that this is indeed the case. I was talking to one of my music students when she informed me that she is famous. “Wow! Cool!” I said, “How did you get famous?” “Well,” she replied; “You are famous and I am your student so that makes me famous.” “Awesome!” I thought. “I have enough fame to bring others along to the amazing world of stardom.” “So, how do you know I am famous?” I asked. “You have a CD.” was her simple and certain answer. I thought of all those CD’s sitting in my garage and then the CD’s who had found homes with family and friends and then onto those most magical of CD’s, the ones that had found homes with people who had no clear reason to buy our CD other than that they want to hear our music again. Could this be? Could I truly be famous? Hey! It’s all about the hype really.   You get one person to believe it and maybe someone else will too and before you know it you are being played on public radio stations across the nation. So, I thought I might as well roll with it. If someone thinks it, it just might be true.

OK, that’s some scary reasoning.   Last December I was at the Intermountain Acoustic Music Association’s First Annual Award Evening. I sat relaxed as the MC read the list of nominations for “Favorite Dulcimer Player”. I anticipated who might be nominated, including my husband, Peter. No surprises until suddenly the MC reads, “Mary Danzig”. Suddenly my heart is racing. Who knew? My bowed drone on a single set of notes must have really grabbed someone. How embarrassing. Someone thinks I can play. No such luck. My skill set on the dulcimer is limited to a drone. Oh, and I can tune it. This is not good. I feel panic overtake me. What if I accidently win? “That’s impossible” I tell myself. “There are actually people who play really well on this list. Yeah, but what if there was a freak computer malfunction and the tally came up with me and I have to go up in front of these people knowing I am a fraud? What if they need to kill time and they ask the ‘favorite dulcimer’ player to play something and all I can do is play a very long drawn out note? ” It feels like one of my crazy bad dreams where I suddenly remember I am performing with a symphony and I totally forgot to practice. The only advantage is that my clothes are staying on. It is amazing how many thoughts can race through my mind in about 10 seconds when I am horrified. The MC finally announces the winner “Sharon Mitchell.” “Thank goodness, Sharon deserves it. Maybe I better learn to play the dulcimer just in case that happens again.”

We are playing at the Celtic Festival in Evanston, WY in March. We are working on some new Celtic songs for the occasion. A couple weeks ago Peter thought of a great arrangement for mandolin and dulcimer so he asked me which instrument I want to learn. Recalling my recent nomination, I think “There is something special about that drone I play. It must really get to people. Maybe I should learn the dulcimer. I’ll probably be a prodigy.” Then again I did spend a little time playing the mandolin before my first daughter was born (she’s 12) and the tuning is the same as the fiddle. So maybe I better think of the poor audience who will listen in a couple months and go with what I know a little. As I work on the tune my oldest daughter, Eliza, wanders into the room, looks at me in surprise and says; “Mom, I didn’t know you play the mandolin!” I thought; “I don’t think this is exactly called playing at this point.” But, being happy to have impressed her, (which is not always the case these days) I roll with it. “Yeah, well I learned a little mandolin before you were born. I thought I would practice up.” “Cool.” she says with a look of respect in her eyes.

The next week I am at her school introducing myself to the choir class I am going to be teaching this trimester. I am telling them a little about my musical background when Eliza chimes in; “She plays the mandolin too.” Well, I do have one song that is recognizable now. This isn’t quite as bad as the dulcimer nomination.

So, back to being famous, I think I’ll accept my student’s assessment of my stature. Sure, there may be those who doubt, but hey, I do have a CD (lots and lots of them in fact). At least I have actually met the qualification set by my student for being famous. Now as I go through my day, volunteering at the school, washing dishes, folding laundry, there is a new spring in my step. I am famous. I am getting a look at famous person’s life up close. Sweet!   Yesterday I went to the post office to mail off a bunch of our CD’s to Folk DJ’s. (Realizing I am famous did get me thinking that I should use the source of my fame to get some airplay.) The postal worker asked me; “Whatcha selling?” “Nothing,” I replied. “My husband and I are musicians. I’m sending our CD to radio stations.” “What’s the name of your group?” he asks. “Otter Creek” I say. “Never heard of ya.”  Well, at least one person knows I’m famous.

2011 Wrap Up

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 19:45:01 -0800

2012 is off to a strong start with a new song written and two tracks recorded yesterday for our second CD (slated for completion and release this summer if all goes well). We could never have imagined three short years ago when we formed Otter Creek that we would be able to accomplish so much in so little time. With 2012 off to a good start we thought we’d have a look back at 2011. Here’s a list of some of the highlights.

Utah State Instrument Championships: We had the honor of placing first in the fiddle (Mary) and the Mandolin (Peter). In addition, one of Mary’s students took 2nd on the fiddle playing Peter’s arrangement of Old Joe Clark. Thanks to all the incredible volunteers who make this event happen every year.

Walnut Valley Festival, Winfield, Kansas: With tickets and entry fees to the festival paid for by our victory in in the Utah State Instrument Championships we headed out to the national competitions in Winfield. In addition our song Tethered Wings was selected as an alternate in the NewSongs Showcase held at the festival. Mary played extremely well in the fiddle competition, and Peter won 2nd place in the National Mandolin Competition. We also had the privilege of accompanying two of our friends during their winning performances in the NewSongs Showcase. Jen Hajj’s song Raptor Bird won in the Children’s Songs category, and Utah Slim’s song Sister San Rafael won in the better world category. That same category has included a Utah winner three years in a row. Our song Down to the River won in 2010 and Kristin Erickson won that category in 2009. In addition to Peter’s win in the nationals, two other Utahans placed. Keith Taylor took 3rd place in the International Fingerstyle Guitar Competition, and Jake Workman took 2nd place in the National Banjo Competition. Winfield is wild and wonderful and in some ways utterly indescribable. Special thanks to our friend Jim Witherspoon for showing us the ropes. Also a big thanks to Bruce and Mary Weber for donating the incredible “Black Ice” Mandolin Peter received as his prize. We have put it to good use!

Mountain Music Festival, Snowbird: After co-writing her first song, Take the Climb Mary decided to take the plunge into the world of songwriting and attended the Snowbird Song School with Peter. Also at the festival, Peter took 1st place in the Suzanne Millsaps Performing Songwriter Showcase, which was an incredible honor given the caliber of the other contestants!

FAR-West Region Folk Alliance: We were thrilled to be chosen out of hundreds of applicants as an official showcase for the conference. We had an incredible time connecting with friends old and new and getting to know the folk community of the northwest region. Perhaps the biggest highlight was getting to play a piece on Tom May’s Nationally Syndicated River City Folk radio program. Peter has been a big fan for years. In addition we had a chance to spend time with our friend David Jorgensen and get to know Kate MacLeod on the way up. We’ve admired her for years after running across a couple of her CD’s in the library back when we were starving students.

Tucson Folk Festival: We were thrilled to perform at this festival, held in downtown Tucson. Peter was also a finalist in the Songwriting Competition held at the festival along with two close friends of ours, Jen Hajj, and Dana Hubbard. Our kids loved the Cacti and the desert and we had a great time even without air conditioning in our van. We’re hoping to make this festival an annual tradition! (We’re also hoping to fix our air conditioning.)

Moab Folk Festival: We’ve been meaning to make it down to this festival for quite some time and this year had the perfect catalyst. Our friend Alicia McGovern asked us to back her up for her performance down at the festival. Peter also sat in on a few songs with Kate MacLeod during her performance. This is an incredible festival with a real bent toward the best in singer songwriters. We finally got to see Cheryl Wheeler in concert as well and she even sang our children’s favorite song of hers, Potato.

Brewin’ Bistro: SLCC produces this great TV show juxtaposing student artists with local and traveling musicians as well as highlighting events in the local acoustic music scene. Thanks to Scott Iverson and the team at SLCC for producing a great show with us and making us look so good! We look forward to hearing more of Allegra Cramer who was on the show with us!

Jen Hajj Band: We were excited to be asked to join the Jen Hajj band for several performances this year, chief among them Jen’s fantastic set at the Gallivan Folk Festival and her incredible show at her CD release later in 2011 for her second CD Ornithologie.

IAMA’s First Annual Member’s Choice Awards: We were deeply moved and honored to receive two awards. Otter Creek won for Favorite Folk Band and Peter tied with Ken Sager for Favorite Mandolin Player. We were also very pleased to be asked to perform a set at the ceremony. As Peter said there, our only regret was that there was no “select all” option on the ballot so we could vote for everyone to win. IAMA is incredibly important to us as our home community and it is a big part of who we are and what we have become. (News Coverage)

Looking over this list we realize we’ve left plenty out, such as our daughter’s debut as The Three Muses, Utah Pride, concerts in Southern Utah and Colorado, booking conferences, collaborations and recordings with friends, CD releases (Utah Slim, Chris Orrock, and Jen Hajj), house concerts, song circles, open mikes, and all the rest. 2011 has been an incredible journey and we’re thankful to all our fellow travelers! Hope to see all of you in 2012 and add another big batch of adventures to our already very full pot! Most of all we’re thankful to our Three Muses who not only inspire us, but put up with us when we are tired and cranky and allow us to do what we love. Thanks Eliza, Kjersten, and Lucy! You are the best!